


Backspace

by Prochytes



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prochytes/pseuds/Prochytes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no credible evidence for psychic powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backspace

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in 2014.

“So,” Fitz leaned across the table conspiratorially, “are you familiar with the Grove of Steel?”

“I don’t think so. Weren’t they a metal band, back in the Seventies?”

Fitz scowled. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Sorry. My bad. Go on.”

Fitz, mollified, continued: “Some years ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. team was in Detroit on another mission.”

“Is this the one about the creepy junkyard?”

“You _have_ heard this story before.”

“Once or twice. But I can always stand to hear that one again. It gives me goose-bumps.”

“Me too.” Fitz leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling. “The S.H.I.E.L.D. team went into a junkyard. They thought that a scientist with a stash of off-the-books vibranium might be hiding out there. He wasn’t. They found him, later on, in Grosse Pointe Park. But what they found in the Detroit junkyard was something else.”

“The Grove?”

“Yes. The Grove of Steel. A canopy of Chryslers arched above. Cadillacs gilled like mushrooms sprouting in their shade. Something had told all the metal in that junkyard to look like a forest.

“The team went into the Grove at noon. The junkyard was not too big; it looked worth exploring. The search was the work of no more than twenty minutes. They agreed, afterwards, that twenty minutes was all it took. But when they finished, it was autumn in the forest. The sun was setting, and the metal leaves were red.

“They never found out what made them lose six hours. And they never found out what turned the junkyard into a forest.”

“That’s such a good story. You’re kind of obsessed with it, huh?”

Fitz flushed. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you told me it. And I’m only here to upgrade your I.T.”

“Ah. Er. Sorry. I haven’t been distracting you, have I?”

“No problemo. I’ve got plenty of time to kill while things compile.”

“Great. Because I think that I may have worked out what happened in Detroit.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Fitz took a deep breath. “I think that what went down there was the work of Gifteds.”

“There’s no Gifted in our files that can bend metal like a pretzel. I know; I’ve seen the database. And a Gifted wouldn’t explain how the field team lost all that time.”

“I’m not so sure. What if someone got inside the heads of all those agents? Made them forget some of what happened in the junkyard?”

“There’s no credible evidence for psychic powers.”

“That’s what everyone says. ‘If any Gifted were good at psychic powers, we’d know about it.’ But there’s the rub. If a Gifted were _really_ good at psychic powers, then we wouldn’t.”

Fitz smoothed out a piece of paper on the table. “Simmons and I put our heads together. If one allows the hypothesis that psychic powers are possible, we think that there might be technological ways one could enhance them. What do you think?”

“Huh. Well, that’s certainly a big, round room.”

“I call the concept ‘Encephalo’. In theory, if a Gifted were powerful enough already, this beauty could amplify his or her telepathy to global range.”

“Wow. That’s pretty neat.”

Fitz’s ’phone began to ring. He glanced at it, and winced. “That’s Skye. I’m afraid I have to take this.”

“Cool. I’ll just sit here and admire ‘Encephalo’.”

Fitz beamed, and moved to the other end of the lab to take the call. “Hello, Skye. How’s Vladivostok?”

“Chilly. Did you know that Ward speaks Russian?”

“He’s a man of many parts.”

“Isn’t he. I’m just touching base. How’s the I.T. upgrade on the Bus going?”

“Pretty fair.”

“Did they send Kate again? Dude, she’s totally into you. She never misses a chance to get on board. And she is _smokin’_ …”

Fitz cleared his throat. “Really? I can’t say that I’d noticed.”

“You’re looking at her legs right this minute, aren’t you?”

Fitz reddened, and dragged his eyes away to inspect the ceiling. “You do talk some rubbish, Skye.”

“That girl has dancer’s legs. She must put in almost as much gym-time as May. You should ask her out. Have you two been shooting the breeze?”

“Sort of…”

Skye was the only person Fitz had ever met who could make an eye-roll work along a ’phone-line. “Please tell me that you haven’t been lecturing Kate on Uri Geller’s Lost Weekend.”

“That’s what Coulson calls it. I prefer ‘The Grove of Steel’.”

“Of course you do. I bet that you’ve been showing her ‘Encephalo’ as well. You never lose a chance to talk to a girl about your hardware.”

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Depends. How many life-times do you have?”

“It makes you think, though, doesn’t it? If someone could do that once, what’s to stop them doing it over and over again? S.H.I.E.L.D. could be in the cross-fire of an invisible war, and never know it.”

“You’ve already heard my line on this, Fitz. It’s a cool theory. But it can’t be so. Ward’s gesturing at me. You have no idea how cute he looks in a ushanka.”

“Pictures, or it never happened.”

“I’ll try to snap him stealthily. Now you run along and talk to Kate. Try to keep the dorky helmet quotient of the conversation to a minimum. ’Bye for now.”

When Fitz returned to the table, Kate was scowling at the screen of her own smartphone.

“Trouble with your boss?” he asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She looked up. “How’s Skye?”

“Cold.”

“What does she think about all of this?” Kate gestured at the plans spread out before her.

“She likes the idea of Encephalo. But she did point out that the theory has a problem.”

“Which is?”

Fitz sighed. “If you were scrubbing S.H.I.E.L.D.’s collective memory – and maybe doing it repeatedly, as well – mind-control simply wouldn’t be enough. There are a lot of automated systems processing data. You’d have to find a way of nobbling the tech.”

“Skye could do it.”

“If she had the access. But the physical security on some of those systems makes Fort Knox look like a Wendy house. It wouldn’t just take a hacker as good as Skye. It would take a hacker as good as Skye who could walk through walls.”

“That doesn’t sound likely.”

“No, but…”

The comms buzzed.

“Fitz? Are you in the lab?”

Fitz touched a button to reply, as Kate picked up the plans and looked at them more intently. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. May and Simmons will be bringing in an 0-8-4.”

“Great. I’ll prep.”

“How’s the I.T. upgrade going?”

“Almost through, sir. Kate from Tech Support is in the lab with me now, finishing it up.”

“Outstanding. When Agent Pryde’s done in there, send her on to me. Over and out.”

Fitz switched off the comms and glanced back at Kate. There was a melancholy expression on her face.

“Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh. No. It’s just…” She bit her lip. “I’m really, really sorry that it has to be like this.”

Fitz opened his mouth to reply, and stopped. He scratched his head, looking perplexed. “What were we just talking about?”

“Skye. She’s in Vladivostok, you said.”

“Right.” Fitz’s eyes dropped to the papers that Kate was holding in her hand. “What are those?”

She shrugged. "Just some stuff I’ve been working on. Nothing major. Look – the upgrade’s complete.”

Fitz swung around to view the screen. Kate sighed; folded up the plans for Encephalo; and slipped them into her pocket, beside the others. 

FINIS


End file.
